


Through the Window, and What Danny Found There

by RedSnowWhite



Series: Writing Prompts, Terribly Misused [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Object Insertion, Pain Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Humiliation, Punishment, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26811502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSnowWhite/pseuds/RedSnowWhite
Summary: Through his window, he could see a platform made of shiny black stone. They called it The Display Platform and, as its name suggested, more often than not something was "displayed" on it, day and night. Or rather, somebody. Whenever one of the Institute's guests displeased Master or any of the instructors, they ended up there for long hours, trussed up, usually after spending some quality time in one of the Punishment Rooms, to get them in the appropriate mood.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Writing Prompts, Terribly Misused [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955464
Comments: 3
Kudos: 107
Collections: Prose From the Abyss





	Through the Window, and What Danny Found There

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Outside the Window

Not all rooms in the Institute had windows. Danny’s new room had one, so - unless the Master closed the electric shutters - he could see the main square.

Sometimes he wondered if he would’ve preferred not to, but then some sick curiosity drove him to “admire” the view anyway.

Through his window, he saw a platform made of shiny black stone. They called it The Display Platform and, as its name suggested, more often than not, something was “displayed” on it, day and night. Or rather, some _body_. Whenever an Institute’s guest displeased Master or any of the instructors, they ended up there for long hours, ashamed and miserable and all trussed up. Usually, after spending some quality time in one of the Punishment Rooms, to get them in the appropriate mood.

The platform was about three feet high, flat and circular, ten feet in diameter. Danny knew that narrow stone steps curled around it at one side, but he couldn’t see them from his vantage point. In the center, it had an opening the size of a grown man’s thigh, with a locking mechanism hidden within. All the stands had a correspondingly sized rod at the base, and that’s how you installed and secured them.

Danny’s Master was in charge of the Display Platform, and different kinds of stands were used according to his wishes. The one currently mounted was deceptively simple: a cone-shaped steel pole. It had a base almost two feet thick, which then narrowed down to about two inches with a gentle curve. That in itself would be more than enough in Danny’s opinion, but Master was far less compassionate. Thus, welded to the tip, there was a lumpy ball as big as Danny’s fist. Once, when he sneaked into the equipment shed with some friends, he’s seen this contraption up close, so he knew the ball at the top was beyond brutal. Made of an unpolished metal meteorite, it had many sizable, irregular protrusions, its entire texture rough and knobby. In addition, it was decidedly wider and pointy on one side.

Placing someone onto this stand would be not only cruel but also dangerous, if not for a particular feature. It had a small hole drilled through it, about a foot down its length, where the pole was almost twice as thick as the uneven ball on top. Perpendicular, a narrow steel rod was inserted into it, to prevent the unfortunate victim from impaling themselves if they tripped. Or rather, to stop the resultant impalement from becoming lethal - given its size, even the initial insertion had the potential to cause some injury.

He shuddered as his anal muscles contracted involuntarily, in sympathy with whoever will be placed on the impossible thing.

And it seemed that the stand won’t stay empty for much longer, as two people were coming towards it. Or rather, one person led another on a leash. The first was the swimming instructor, Mr. Corben, a very tall man with long, wiry arms, famous in the Institute for being exceptionally skilled with a paddle. The other was a naked muscular young man, with his hands tied to his elbows behind his back, whom Danny occasionally saw at the gym and didn’t know the name of. He walked with a noticeable limp, and whenever Mr. Corben tugged on the leash, the guy stumbled a bit, then regained his balance with a wince. Even from his window, Danny could see his face was red from crying.

And Danny saw the poor bastard had ample reasons to cry when the teacher brought him onto the platform and turned him around. His buttocks were a single bruise, uniformly red, their color and shape not unlike an enormous ripe cherry. Mr. Corben stood in front of him, said something that made the guy shake his head vehemently, then put his hands around the muscular body. Grabbed the abused globes. Squeezed.

The resultant scream, even if muffled by the glass and the building’s walls, sent shivers down Danny’s spine and blood down his cock.

Without care, the teacher jabbed three fingers into the man’s hole. His victim wheezed, then went limp in his arms.

It seemed the limping Danny had noticed earlier wasn’t caused by the abused buttocks, but rather by the hurt that lay deep within. That, Danny knew from painful experience, in the current situation was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, if the poor bastard’s insides were already so sore he had trouble walking, then his stay on the platform will end up closer to torture than punishment. On the other, the guy was probably stretched enough to mount the pole without serious injury. Though one thing was certain. He won’t be blessing anyone or anything after he got stuffed with the cursed thing.

That was by design, though. Mr. Corben, like all the instructors, knew very well what he was doing.

But wait, Danny frowned. The pole seemed a bit too tall. True, it had a telescopic joint just under the safety rod, and its height was adjustable, as were the case for most punishment devices of this type used in the Institute. But they usually did any modification or rearrangement in the storage room. Or even the workshop, since it required some tools no one wanted to drag to and fro and risk losing. Plus, Mr. Corben didn’t seem particularly intent on any adjustments, and it looked as if he was simply going to use it as-is.

He grabbed the well-muscled buttocks again, spread them wide, lifted the guy up. Started lowering him down onto the pole. Slowly. Accompanied by a loud scream.

At least the young man knew what was good for him and, once his hole touched cold metal, instead of tensing, went limp in his tormentor’s arms. His scream transformed into a high, continuous whine.

The platform was close to the dormitory, and the guy’s back was turned towards it. Thus, wide-eyed Danny could see a puffy, red hole stretch and stretch and slowly gobble up the large meteorite. Once in a while, while the poor sod was going down, he jerked then shuddered, as the protrusions did their job and dug into his overtaxed sphincter one by one. The crimson buttocks kept flexing, a pretty frame for the alien-looking black iron.

Must feel like all circles of hell took residence inside that ass, thought Danny, as he imagined that one-of-a-kind, impossible, icy heat borne of acute pain...

Suddenly, the guy jolted and tensed. Started quivering. Then froze again and, very deliberately, wriggled a bit with loud, breathy gasps.

And Danny realized where the large misshapen bulge had to be. He couldn’t see it before, not due to the distance, but because it was at the side opposite from his vantage point, in the perfect spot. It will jab and prod and press where it would be felt the most: the prostate gland.

The poor guy was in for one hell of an experience...

The puffy hole finally swallowed the ball whole. And, as it closed and shaped itself around the intrusion, the young man made a noise so loud, Danny could hear it from his room as clearly as if he was standing right there with them. He gasped and reflexively dug the heel of his hand into the root of his cock, then lifted it as if burned, realizing what he just did. 

He eyed three small surveillance cameras placed strategically around the room. If Master found out he touched himself without permission, he would take the muscular guy’s place on the platform as soon as tomorrow. And, while witnessing another’s misery and the idea itself aroused him, he knew from painful experience that taking a more active part in the “fun” tended to drastically change one’s perspective on such matters.

Meanwhile, Mr. Corben coaxed his victim to find his footing, at least as much as the young man was able. At this point, Danny figured out why the pole was so tall. The guy couldn’t get off it on his own; he could only teeter on the very tips of his toes, permanently at risk of sliding further down onto it. This wasn’t a position he could keep for long, especially since he couldn’t shift his gravity center at all. The unyielding steel up his ass and the pole’s width between his legs prevented him from bringing his feet closer together, so he couldn’t distribute his weight from one foot to the other. He will tire soon and won’t have any other choice but to take the steadily widening rod deeper. Danny knew that even in this, there was a trap: while the first inch or two of the descent would be slow and controlled, there was a point beyond which you were either standing on tiptoes or flat on the ground. The height of the sudden drop depended on the size of your feet and the strength of your muscles. And the visible full-body shudders wrecking the young man suggested that his muscles were rather tired already. The solution was to control it and willingly go down, bit by bit, before your body gave up on you, but few were fearless enough to do so. The man evidently wasn’t, and soon he’ll slide down fast and hard.

As if to ensure it was going to happen sooner rather than later, Mr. Corben grabbed the crimson buttocks again - he liked doing that way too much - then squeezed them and rolled them against each other, roughly massaging the abused flesh against the cruel steel within. He slid the man up and down a bit, moved his helpless body in tight circles, ground the rough and bumpy metal deep into flesh with sadistic joy. In turn, the young man started shaking and wailing in earnest. He could do absolutely nothing against the agonizingly painful treatment. With his hands tied behind his back and his feet barely touching the ground, his tormentor could maneuver him however he liked. Finally, Mr. Corben moved away from his victim, leaving the poor bastard panting and shaking and fighting to control his own body, then stepped down the platform. Walked around it. 

Because of its height, the young man’s groin and ass were at the instructor’s eye level. He admired his handiwork with approval. The guy had slid a bit lower on the pole due to his tormentor’s sadistic ministrations. His skin shone with sweat. He was trying to hold in his sobs, to move as little as possible. He even kept clenching his buttocks, despite how much pain that must have caused him. The muscles in his calves spasmed visibly.

Mr. Corben waited.

A minute passed. Two. Five.

The young man said something in a low voice, probably begged; forgot in his desperation that, unless he used his safe word - and subsequently got thrown out of the Institute - begging never helped. Mr. Corben shook his head and smiled a deceptively warm smile. At that very moment, the overexerted muscles finally gave up, and the guy dropped down with a screech of agony. Danny gripped the windowsill and opened his eyes wide - to better stare at the point where flesh and metal met.

Even if there was still over four inches of the pole left till the safety rod, the girth Danny’s fellow inmate was forced to take was already wider than that of the ball on top, to the point where his sphincter, previously dark red and puffing out, now turned white and almost translucent from the stretch. Mr. Corben walked behind him, bent down, and examined the point of connection. Rubbed at the surrounding flesh a bit. The poor guy on the pole whined again. Finally, the instructor smiled, probably pleased that, since nothing seemed ripped and bleeding, his victim’s stay on the platform needn’t be cut short. Before he left the young man to his torment, he pulled out a bottle of water from his pocket and let the guy drink all of it to make up for all the sweat that kept running in rivulets down the trembling skin. He said something to his victim, chuckled, then suddenly looked beyond him, right into Danny’s window.

Their eyes met.

Danny’s heartbeat skyrocketed, and he swiftly crouched under the windowsill in an attempt to hide, but it was already too late. He got noticed. Oh God, he got noticed! There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that his interest in the scene outside will get reported. Gods only knew the consequences he’ll face because of that, though one thing was certain. Once Master found out he has shown an active interest in the spectacle outside, he will “let” Danny experience - see how considerate he is? - the platform many times, in a lot of direct and personal ways.

The blood in Dany’s cock pulsed, and his hole started aching in anticipation.

Maybe even in this exact same setting.


End file.
